


Number One

by AmberStories



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Bondage, Dom Edward, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Emotional and Physical Pain, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kink, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Spanking, Spanking, Sub Oswald, Twisted Edward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 03:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8733817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberStories/pseuds/AmberStories
Summary: Alternate ending to S3E10.Ed figures out who's behind Isabella's murder and plans to make the most out of his revenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before episode 11 came out but was waiting until today to get an AO3 invitation. The part about the knife was inspired by the ep. 11 teaser.
> 
> This is my first fanfic! Let me know in the comments if you liked it or how I can improve! :>

Edward was briskly walking away from the warehouse where he had just finished torturing Butch and Tabitha. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his eyes wide open in horror. His brain frantically processing what he had just heard.

 

“I killed her, Nygma. She screamed for help just before I put a bullet in her brain”

 

No, no, no, no, NO. He expected Butch to deny having killed Isabella. In fact, he was having a wonderful time trying to pull it out of him. But that… that PROVED he could not be involved. Isabella was murdered in a staged car accident, not killed by a bullet. And clearly, Butch didn’t have the brainpower to pull off a bluff. It didn’t make any sense. 

 

If not Butch, then who?

 

Who could have had both the power and the knowledge necessary to know they would get at him by killing the new-found love of his life? His everything? Who even knew about Isabella?

 

All of a sudden he stopped. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. His face a grimace of hate. 

 

How could he have been so stupid?

 

He raced to the old mansion, a knife ready for what he felt was the only plausible resolution to this absurd situation. There was a single possible explanation for the facts. And Penguin would pay.

 

Yet just before entering the mansion, ready for all but killing his old “friend” in cold blood, he stopped again. His face regained its usual composure, his eyes turned cold. These weren’t his ways. Perhaps spending too much time with Oswald was starting to turn him into an impulsive homicidal maniac; but that’s not what Riddler was.

 

Staring at the door in front of him, his lips slowly turned into a grin and he let out a chuckle. If he was going to have revenge, he might as well make it fun.

 

On his way back to Gotham, the thought of Isabella’s death was already eclipsed by the prospect of his sweet, sweet revenge. His mourning shadowed by more… pleasant thoughts. Just as quickly as she had come into his life, she had already left it.

 

Still smiling, he approached once again the bondage store where he had bought the supplies needed to torture Butch and Tabitha. While not prone to regrets, Ed did feel slightly bad for falsely accusing and torturing them… oh, and you know, cutting Tabitha’s hand. But that was just one more reason for making Penguin pay.

 

“Please, please don’t hurt me! Your friend already has! Take whatever you want!”

The man at the counter had yelled and run away in fear just at his sight. What was that about? Ed watched him in surprise, then scoffed and walked through the now empty store, contemplating the various instruments of pain and bondage around him.

 

He stopped in front of a particularly interesting setup. That will do, he thought, and smiled.

 

\------

 

“I’m so glad you found who killed Isabella, Ed. Butch deserved to pay.”

 

Later that afternoon, Oswald was having a cup of tea with his dearest friend, Ed, at his mansion. Everything had gone according to plan. Well, more or less. But what mattered was that now Ed would be his and his only. He just had to find the right time to tell him how much he loved him, how important he had become in his life. After the death of his mother, first, and his father, later, he could not have imagined that anyone would have come into his life to comfort and support him. He craved for affection, and Ed had given him just that, when he needed it the most. He simply could not let him go, too.

 

He smiled as his best and only friend (and hopefully, soon more than friend) sipped from his cup of tea across the table. Ed was staring at him in with an indescribable look in his eyes. Oswald was having trouble deciphering it, but he hoped he was right in reading longing and compassion in it. He felt that he had played the role of the supportive friend very well, and that Ed should now be ready to transform his mourning for Isabella into affection for him.

 

Things were going to get better from now on, with Ed at his side, his wonderful, beautiful Edward… why did he feel so sleepy all of a sudden? Still staring into Ed’s eyes, he struggled to keep his eyelids open. Everything was spinning around him. The last thing he saw was Ed’s gentle smile and his firm gaze over him.

 

\------

 

Oswald suddenly awoke to a terrible feeling of wetness and cold all over his face. He had just been drenched by a bucket of cold water. The second thing he noticed in the midst of pain and confusion was that his mouth was gagged.

 

“What the…”

 

Before he could finish his thought, he regained enough feeling in his body to notice that his limbs were immobilized, too. And in a rather… embarrassing position. His chest clenched in terror as he realized he was completely naked and tied to some sort of twisted apparatus.

 

He was on his knees, his shins firmly attached to an elevated, horizontal metallic frame thanks to thick leather straps. Simultaneously, his weight was shifted forward as his forearms were also tied to the frame and the weight of his upper body rested on them. To top it off, a strap was tied all around his waist and was itself tied to a part of the frame above him. The result was disconcerting to say the least. With his bottom completely exposed to the elements and with all possibility for movement revoked, he felt completely and utterly vulnerable. Given how much he craved power, this was not a good feeling at all.

 

The leather straps digged into his skin as he tried his best to move and turn his head around the room. Just as terror had filled him at first, anger was now overcoming every inch of his brain. Who was responsible for this sick joke?

 

Then he saw him. 

 

Edward was now standing right in front of his reddened, wet face. Oswald quickly became as pale as a ghost. Ed was fully dressed in one of his expensive suits, simply staring at him, no emotion in his face.

 

What was going on?!

 

His eyebrows first raised in surprise, then furrowed in fear, his eyes imploring for an explanation, he started trembling at the nonsensical vision in front of him. 

 

At which point the Riddler came forward and grabbed his gagged face, as if to reassure him that this wasn’t a dream. Ed’s strong hand felt rough and cold, so unlike the many times he had felt it pat his back in one of their many hugs. His face, still emotionless, came down to his level, so close he could feel Ed’s breath caress his burning skin.

 

“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Penguin?”

 

Oswald gave a quick gaze to his surroundings, unable to move his face. He suddenly realized he wasn’t at his mansion anymore. This place looked more like one of the many empty warehouses where he and people of his sort often tortured and killed people. Not that the current situation suggested anything else reserved for his fate, his brain told him.

 

“DO YOU KNOW WHY?”

 

Ed’s face had suddenly turned into a grimace of anger as he yelled, inches from his own face. Even if he had known, he could not have answered, given the gag and the strength with which Ed’s hand was clenching his cheeks. 

 

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, you know exactly what’s going on, Oswald.”

 

His tone had returned to a flat emotionless grumble as he let go of his face and stepped back. He even hinted a smile. His eyes were not smiling, thought.

 

Oswald felt his heart plunge as understanding dawned upon him. Of course. Ed had figured it out. NO! This could not be happening!

 

Ed’s grin widened as Oswald’s eyes filled with a mixture of fear and regret. He tried to yell, to tell Ed he did it because he loved him. Because he was the only thing that made him go forward, that kept him together in his miserable life of loss and hate.

 

But he couldn’t, and only muffled sounds came out of his restrained mouth.

 

“Oh please. I know. You don’t need to tell me you’ve had a little crush on me since I helped you out in the campaign. Who do you think I am, an idiot?”

 

At this point Oswald was once again baffled and confused. Ed knew?

 

“Really, I’m surprised at myself for not realizing earlier it had to be you. Who else could be holding a grudge against Isabella?”

 

He once again dropped to the height of Oswald’s face and, this time uncharacteristically gently, caressed his cheek, an amiable look in his eyes.

 

“I’ve known, Oswald. I’ve been feeding into your need for care ever since you freed me from Arkham. Complimenting you at every turn. I knew it would eventually bring you to your demise. And as you well know, I don’t like being number two. I like being number one.”

 

Oswald looked down to the floor, unable to fully process this new information. Ed’s affection was nothing but a lie? A way to take him out of the picture? Still trembling and with tears in his eyes, he looked back up at Ed’s face. Conflicting emotions were running all at once through his brain.

 

He should have been angry, spiteful of Ed’s awful betrayal. And yet when looking at his soft features he could not feel anything but longing. This man had just admitted to having tortured him mentally, and he was most likely about to torture him physically. And yet Oswald was not able to bring himself to hate him, and instead still irrationally hoped Ed would change his mind, forgive him, and kiss him right then. 

 

“Well, time to get down to business!”

 

Ed sprung up with a tense smile, cracking his knuckles. That sent Oswald an unpleasant shiver down the spine, as he was reminded of his humiliating arrangement.

 

\------

 

Judging by his screaming, the first contact of the cane with the smaller man’s skin must have sent bolts of pain though his entire, restrained body. Riddler was using his favorite walking cane as a starter, punishing Oswald’s bottom without piety. 

 

He had discovered this about himself, lately. He really enjoyed torturing people. Which is probably why getting information out of Butch and Tabitha had been so much fun. This was even better. He had even more of a reason to inflict upon Penguin the worst punishment he could think of. And so far it was great.

 

With each swing of his cane, he could watch as Oswald’s small body twisted and trembled, and as red welts appeared on his otherwise pale skin he felt more and more powerful. This was the supposed king of the underworld. For hell’s sake, this was the mayor!

 

And yet he could do whatever he wanted with him. He could inflict as much pain as he desired. He could kill him any moment he chose. But that wouldn’t come until much, much later.

 

Only when Oswald was starting to stop resisting the blows and accept the neverending agony did he decide to give the cane a rest. He then grabbed one of the several tools he had acquired at the store earlier, a beautiful, large wooden paddle. This was sure to leave a mark, physical and not.

 

This new type of strike, flatter and fuller, resumed Oswald’s suffering on top of the already formed welts. He made sure to hit him evenly across his bottom, then slowly passing on to the back of his thighs. The onslaught continued for god knows how long, until Riddler was satisfied with the deep shade of red left behind by this wonderful instrument. 

 

He was about to pass onto something else, when he noticed something interesting. Very interesting.

 

Ed walked up to his former friend’s face, which was drooping in between his shoulders and sobbing uncontrollably.

 

He once again took it in his hands, bringing Oswald’s wet and reddened eyes to meet his. He smiled.

 

“We’re not done here, Mr. Penguin, not even close. But you know what I’ve noticed?”

 

He paused as if waiting for a reply, which was obviously impossible given the fact that Oswald’s face was still gagged.

 

“I think you’re enjoying this, Ozzie”

 

Oswald’s eyes, though exhausted, filled once more with confusion.

Ed started laughing out loud, looking straight at him.

 

“This is just too precious! I don’t know what it is about you, Oswald, if you just love me that much or if you’re into this kind of stuff. But you’re as hard as a rock!”

 

He was right. At some point during the assault on the small man’s bottom, his cock had filled with blood and grown into a steady erection. And neither of them had noticed until now.

 

Riddler was laughing uncontrollably now, enjoying every moment of Oswald’s incredulous acknowledgment of his own body’s response to the pain he still felt.

 

“Thank you, Oswald! This really made my day!”

 

\------

 

Oswald could not believe his friend’s words. And yet the evidence was right there, in his own body. He had been so overwhelmed by the shock - both emotional and physical - to consider the heat that was building up between his legs with each blow of Ed’s cane and paddle. 

 

This made no sense! Again! How could he respond this way to the destruction of all that he cared about, and not to mention to the agonizing pain spreading from his bottom to every inch of his body. And yet he could not make it go away.

 

“Very well, Mr. Penguin. If this is what you want, I’ll give it to you.” He heard Ed say from behind him.

 

The next thing he knew was a new, intense kind of burning. This time it was right up his ass. Was this really happening? He could barely think straight, as Edward’s cock thrust unceremoniously into him, over and over.

 

Was this what he wanted?

 

As much as he yelled in pain, he also unbelievably felt his erection grow stronger and realized he was coming close to… some sort of climax, if you could call it that. 

 

He could no longer resist when he felt Ed’s strong hand wrap around his cock and squeeze it, provoking both extreme agony and ecstasy. That’s when, despite himself, he gave in to this amazing and terrible feeling, and felt himself come and yell in what could have either been moans of pleasure or of pain. 

 

Riddler kept his thrusts going for just a bit more until he, too, reached his climax inside of Oswald. The Penguin heard the taller man take a few steps back, sitting down on the floor, panting. 

 

Shook to his core, emotionally and physically exhausted, he had barely the energy necessary to wonder what would be his fate. At this point, he would have gladly resigned his life, and just rested, rested in peace forever.

 

After what could have been minutes or hours, he heard Riddler’s footsteps slowly walk around the freaky apparatus he was tied to. He felt his pounding face, his black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, being once again pulled up by his friend’s hands.

 

“I have a proposition for you, Oswald.”

 

Ed was staring down at him, heated up as well, his brown hair messy and his glasses missing.

 

“You can die here, today. I can’t promise I won’t have some more fun with you before I kill you. I was planning on cutting away your fingers one by one, you know, fun stuff.”

 

Despite his exhaustion, Penguin felt the horror surge again within him.

 

“Or…”

 

Oswald waited in anguish as Riddler looked at him with thoughtful eyes.

 

“Or, you can make me number one in this… relationship of ours. You will still be mayor, and the face of the underworld. But I will be the one running this city. I will be the one telling you what to do. You will be my puppet.”

 

Riddler’s grin was now wide on his face.

 

“And you know, you may get out of this more than you think. I had fun today. More than I had expected. And I believe you secretly did too. I wouldn’t mind doing this again some other time. Even with less pain, and more… preparation. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

 

Oswald’s heart was throbbing with what he had just heard. Relinquish his power? What he craved the most? What he spent his life obtaining?

  
Yet Riddler was right. This was what he wanted.


End file.
